Hi, I'm Irrelevant
by The Official Canadian Teabag
Summary: Irrelevance is a virtue...said no one ever. A tale told by Lovino Vargas about his very awkward life as a very awkward teenager very awkwardly finding himself hopelessly falling for the person he believed he would only fall for in a worst-case scenario. It's kind of a funny story. Human AU. Highschool AU. Spamano.
1. Introduction

Everybody's an asshole.

Dramatization? No, actually, you'd be fucking wrong. Every single damn person on this planet is an asshole, has been an asshole, or will be an asshole some period in time; it's inevitable. Don't believe me? Alright, we're gonna play a little game, you and I, so try to follow everything I fucking tell you to do, yeah? First, I want you to get on your knees. Do it. Right now. Okay, and now I want you to open your mouth real wide, and keep it open. Last step? Keep your eyes closed. Pretend you're having a nightmare. That way, you have an excuse to go by after you wake up in a cold sweat after I shove my dick down your throat.

I hate people. I do. I hate them all. Old people, young people, children, adults, I probably hate you, too. But I like babies. They're cute, and they don't talk as much, so that's a point for me. Don't worry, puking and shitting doesn't bother me that much...as long as the creature isn't close to me.

Anyways, I'm just not a people person. I suffer from this serious condition called 'social inept-ness'. Can also be called 'loser-isms'. God, sometimes I wish I could have everybody on this planet stand in a line, and I'd take a gun and start mowing them down, one by one, until all you motherfuckers are maggot breakfast. Hamlet, where is Polonius? At supper. At supper? Where? Not where he eats, but where he is eaten. Oh, yes, in/deed/. Shakespeare had some pretty damn good ideas in that British head of his. It's too bad his brilliance couldn't rub off of any other asshole. Then that'd be one less person I'd kill off this planet.

You know what? As a matter of fact, I do hate you. Automatically. Why? Because you're still reading my shit. What are you still doing here? Lameass, go outside and play football, or go hug your mom, or go piss in your car's gas tank, for all I care. Go. Now. Here's your chance. Go!

...

Still here?

God, you're a fucking leech. Anyways, I should probably tell you why you're here. So there's this...guy...(okay, I'm a fucking homo, deal with it) and this is the story of how this former-asshole became my high school romantic interest, which turned into something else, which turned into something else. But let's start at the very beginning, shall we?

Hi, I'm Lovino Vargas, and I'm irrelevant.

* * *

A/N: WHOA. What is this?! Double update?! Within two days?! Hahah hoooly shit. Anyways, I got in the writing mood, so I decided to start a new Highschool!AU multichap fic in.../first person/. I definitely feel a lot more comfortable doing first person rather that omniscient third person, so I'm feeling pretty good about this. (also cause i highly relate to Lovi)

Should I continue? Idk, lemme know.

Stay classy.


	2. Chapter 1

It all started on a crappy, annoying, Monday morning.

"_I got a pocket, a pocket full of sunshine, I've got a love and I know that it's all mine, oh, whoa~_"

That's what I woke to. Yup. I'm not even kidding. Full blast, right next to my ear. Also, my brother seemed to have snuck into my room to place his phone right on my pillow and was now _dancing and singing along like he just doesn't give one shit about me._

I swallowed down the primal instinct to leap onto my brother and strangle him before wrapping his unconscious body in my bedsheets and chucking him out the window to groan loudly and pull my pillow over my head. "Feliciano, turn that American shit you call music off before I break your phone."

I felt my brother grab his phone back, but he didn't turn the music off just yet. "Riiiiiiiiise and shine, Lovi!" And with that, he hopped onto my covered, bundled self, either not noticing or choosing to ignore my clearly distressed mood and bounced up and down on my back like a fucking five-year-old. "First day of schooool, wheeee!"

This kid was not sixteen. There's no way. Clearly he's going to be attending preschool.

"Aren't you excited, Lovi~? _Take me away, a secret place, a sweet escape, take me awaaaay~_"

"Feliciano, take your fifty-pound ass off my back and get the fuck out of my room already. I swear to God if you don't move within the next ten seconds, I'll-"

"Mom told me to wake you up, so if you're not up right away, she's gonna be preeeetty upset...~"

"Yeah, and, you see, getting up is what I'm _trying _to do, so _get off my fucking back,_" I hissed as I peeled back my covers, feeling my patience thin away into nothingness.

Finally my idiot brother hopped my back, and with a, "Hurry, Lovi!" he trotted out of the room, wriggling his hips as he sang the song at the top of his lungs.

Ugh, Christ, finally some silence. What time was it, anyways? My neck and sides were hurting like a bitch, to make matters worse, 'cause I probably slept in the wrong position, and my eyes were so heavy, I felt like I wouldn't be able to stay awake for more than a few minutes. Groggily, I peeked through bleary eyes at my alarm clock.

...

...

...

"_FELICIANO! YOU SON OF A BITCH, IT'S ONLY FOUR IN THE FUCKING MORNING!"_

Wait for it...

...

"_LOVINO VARGAS! _Get down here at once, young man!"

My mom. Rrrright. I...always forget we live in the same house. Just slips my mind, y'know?

* * *

It might've taken years, but I somehow managed to pull myself out of bed, yank on a shirt, and trudge down the stairs on sore, aching feet. Meeting me at the bottom of the stairwell was, oh, the loveliest people on the face of the planet: my mother and...my step-father, my mom's new husband, Richard Cox.

Let me tell you something: this guy is possibly the most loserish person on this planet, next to me, of course (sometimes I wonder if he got picked on a lot through his schooling years. I bet he was called 'Dick Cocks' a lot, hee hee). He looks like every step-dad looks like: beady, birdlike eyes, dark brown, graying hair, old-man gut, skinny little bird legs, annoying, prissy, basically just a very Catholic asshole. Don't get me wrong, I love my mom with all my heart. It's just Mr. Dick that I just can't stand, and I know he can't stand me either. He's constantly yelling at me, telling me that I'm the son he's never wanted, the worst-case scenario, that I'm a demon that needs to be put back to Hell, blah, blah, blah (okay, that last one was exaggerated, but whatever). It's really fucking annoying, but I can handle it easily. I've known him since I was ten, so seven years was long enough for me to brush off his words. They don't mean shit to me anymore. The thing that makes me really hate his guts is that he controls my mom way too much. My mom, my brother and I, we're Italian, we immigrated nearly ten years ago from Italy to good ol' United States of America, so we have a lot of Italian culture. No, Dickie Cock doesn't like that. At all. We rarely have pasta, even the really cheap ones, like lasagna or fettuccine alfredo, we get scolded if we speak in our native tongue, and we can't even tell people we're from Italy. My mom used to wear a bit of makeup, used to colour her hair, used to dance salsa and sing Italian opera and read exotic romance novels, but not anymore. None of that's allowed in our house. Dick wants us to act like the perfect American family, _his_ dream family, wants us to stay under his big, fat ass forever, trap us from everything we love. He pretends to love us, to care and protect my mother, but I can see through his prickly birdy flesh. He's not into my mom, he curses my soul, but, oh, he just _loves_ Feliciano. Says he's the perfect, sweet, and beautiful little boy he's always wanted to have. What a fucking asswipe pedophile. That's why Richard'll _never _be my father. Never.

Anyways, my mom and my step-loser were both scolding me, my mom in a shrill, disappointed tone, and the step-loser in a hateful, disgusted one.

"Lovino, how dare you speak that way in my house?! Especially to your brother?! Is that really the example you want to set for Feliciano?"

"Would the Lord want to see His children swearing, going against the Bible, speaking the Devil's language? Child, I would be deeply disgusted to call you my son, for you are letting the Devil invade and dirty your thoughts."

The combination of their voices put together made me want to stab my eardrums out with a pen. I wish I could, honestly, so I'd be blessed with silence for the rest of my life. Maybe I could even get some sleep from that.

"_Dispiace_, Mama. It won't happen again," I reassured, and gave one blistering, nasty look back at Dickie Bitch before I slipped past them and into the kitchen.

I never was one to eat that much in our family. For some reason, I always ate very minimal during meals, which is completely opposite to what Feliciano does. Hell, he'd probably enjoy using a shovel to scoop up his lunch. I, on the other hand, am more...delicate. In a health-related way.

I swiped two apples off the display tray on the island kitchen table, one for me, one for Feliciano, before snatching up my brother (who was whining at me, in arrival, to make him some big, complicated breakfast) and pulling him towards the door. "C'mon. Let's get outta here."

"What? B-But fratello, w-we can't go to school like this!"

"Obviously fucking _not_, dipshit. We're gonna shower and hang out a bit at Arthur's place, okay?"

"Okay. But...why?"

I sighed irritably, yanking our schoolbags off the hooks and tossing my brother his jacket. "It's _not_ a good time to stay around the house, okay? Now get moving."

Before we made our leave, I heard my mother's panicked, screechy voice again. "Boys, where do you think you're going?!"

"We're going to go see Arthur, Mom," I called back, keeping my voice flat so she wouldn't hear the irritation I was currently feeling. "We'll see you after school."

"You're just going to leave your mother and father without saying goodbye? At least let me get my camera-"

"Bye," I ended the conversation before it could escalate into something more annoying and trouble, and quickly pushed Feli out the door. Even as I closed the mesh door behind us, I could hear both my mom and the step-loser hollering after us at the top of their lungs, but I honestly couldn't care less.

It was cold outside. The air was chilly, and it sliced through my jacket like a hot knife through butter as we walked, making me shiver. Jesus...

"Lovi?"

I glanced at my brother, who was hugging himself tightly, as if that could shelter him from the cold. "W...Why did we have to leave...?"

I sighed, shaking my head briskly, before readjusting my backpack straps and wrapping an arm around my little twin brother's shoulders. "Shitty stuff. I was trying to save us both a few hours of our lives not being tormented. You're welcome."

"Thanks," Feli responded easily, and a smile slipped onto his lips. "But...Richard's not _that_ bad at all, Lovi. He's super nice, actually! He says that my eyes are unique~"

Ugh. Fuck. Gross. I shudder at the thought, grimacing. "Don't even, Feli. I still think he's a fucking pedophile."

"But he's so nice!"

"All pedophiles are nice, dumbshit."

Arthur's house was looming in the distance. It was incredibly handy and convenient that he lived so close to us. "C'mon, move it. We're getting pretty close." I pushed us along, making us hurry along the sidewalk.

"I call using Arthur's bathtub first!" Feli yelped, grinning wide, and he picked up the pace even more, sliding from under my arm. "Artie has the _bestest_ shower, and his water gets so warm!"

"Shh, you moron! You're gonna wake the whole neighbourhood up! And then Old Man Miller's gonna hear us and call the cops on us for disturbing the peace!"

"Okay, okay, I'll be quiet," Feliciano giggled, before he moved into a full-out sprint. "Race you there!"

I was so damn lucky that I was a runner, but I was so damn unlucky that my legs were still trying to wake up, so I ended up half-walking, half-crawling all the way to Arthur's place.

* * *

"Arthur!" I stage-whispered, chucking another pebble at his window and half-hoping he could hear me through the glass. "Wake up!"

We were standing out there freezing our asses off for about five minutes when finally the window the closest to the roof of the huge, Victorian house opened, and a head of shaggy blond hair popped through. "...What d'ya fucking want?"

I smirked and placed my hands on my hips. "'Morning, sunshine. You gonna open the door for us?"

I heard Arthur groan, and he disappeared from the window, but I knew he was going to open the front door. He always does, even if he pretends to hate doing it. I tugged Feliciano around to the front of the house, and waited until Arthur opened the door to us. Shortly, the door unlocked, and Arthur was leaning heavily against the doorframe, clad in pyjamas.

Arthur Kirkland is my best and closest friend. Well...only friend, to be honest. I've known him ever since I moved here, and he is a total asswipe, and that's why he's my best friend. Not only can he be extremely nasty and rude, but he's also the president of the student council, so nobody can fuck with him. Even if they did, he'd probably kick their ass (anyone who'd tease this guy probably wanted to shoot a comment about his thick eyebrows, just saying). Artie's a short, skinny guy (like me), who likes dressing in a punk-ish style but somehow manages to look clean and proper throughout the time given. Again, like me, he's also totally gay and awkward around people. Oh yeah-and he's also an exchange student from Manchester.

My friend's emerald eyes glared at Feliciano and I through the mesh door, and even through the netting I saw the tiny diamond stud in his nose sparkle. "It's four in the fuckin' morning. You couldn't come later, could you?"

I grinned. "Nope. We wanted your bathtub as soon as possible."

Feliciano waved at Arthur, and as if the Brit didn't know he was standing there, unaware of his presence, chirped, "Hi, Artie~!"

Arthur raised a dark eyebrow, before sighing and pushing the door open for us. "Hello, brat. Now get inside, both of you, but keep your fucking voices _down_."

* * *

While Feliciano hopped into the shower, Artie and I caught up on some things on his bed.

"So?" My friend asked abruptly.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "So...what?"

"You know what."

"I honestly don't have a damned clue."

Arthur sighed, rolling his acidic green eyes. "Did you hook up with anyone during the break?"

I felt my jaw drop and blood rush to my cheeks. "Oh, God, ew, Arthur, no!"

"What? Really?" The Brit pouted, looking disappointed. "Didn't even find a hottie at the supermarket or something?"

"Ugh, no. I've told you thousands of times, I'm not into that dating shit you seem to be involved in."

"I can't help it. I'm almost eighteen and I haven't had my first kiss yet."

"Neither have I, loser."

"Exactly! That's why we should find someone now, in our last years of high school, or else we'll end up being like that bloke on that _40-Year-Old Virgin _movie."

I scoffed, and distracted myself by picking up Arthur's phone and flipping through it. "I'm fine with that. You should be, too. No STIs, no lip sores, no vasectomies."

"Oh, yuck. I didn't need that mental image. Thanks, Lovi."

Ignoring the nickname, I continued. "Besides, you already have a boyfriend, so you shouldn't be worried."

I could practically hear Arthur's jaw drop, and he spluttered, "A...what? Are you mad? I don't have any sodding boyfriend."

"You don't? So that's why Alfred's your main screen picture." I waved his phone in front of his face.

Arthur blushed ten shades of red, and he glared daggers at me. "...Alfie is _not_...my boyfriend."

"Oh, okay, sure. I totally believe you and...Alfie...aren't a thing."

"Oh, shut up," Arthur snapped, and crossed his thin arms across his chest. Then the embarrassment and anger slipped from his features, replaced with an emotion I couldn't quite place. "Which reminds me...I hear there's going to be a new student coming in today. A bloke from Spain."

"Oh, really?" I wasn't really paying attention to what my friend was saying; I was too busy flipping through Arthur's camera roll, looking at pictures of the Brit's American crush, as well as Mariah Carey. "That's nice."

"Seventeen...plays the guitar...lots of siblings..."

"How do you even know those things?"

"Darling, I practically _work_ in the school's office. I know these things."

"Whatever. What's your point?" I smiled a bit to muffle my laughter as I saw a picture of Alfred making out with some guy with a mohawk at a party back in grade nine. Oh, those were the days.

The bed creaked as Arthur leaned forward. "My point is, if he's gay and good-looking, you should go for it."

Uh, what the fuck did he just say?

I raised my head slowly, narrowing my eyes at the Brit. "Don't even go there."

Arthur looked amused. "I know you like Spanish people. What do you have to lose?"

"I'm going to pretend that you didn't say that, and that you're not actually human, but a llama." I got up from the bed, placing Arthur's phone on his dresser, and I was glad to hear Feliciano tiptoe out the bathroom and into the guest room across the hall.

"But Lovino!" Arthur whined, sounding like a total annoying bitch. "Give it a shot! Come oooon, you boring prat!"

"Arthur!" I whispered. "Zip it! I'm not doing any stupid shit like that! Just drop it!" With that, I stepped into the bathroom before he could say anything else.

God, he was so annoying. He kept wanting me to go dating, kept wanting me to find 'hot and sexy' guys and hook up with them. Who was he trying to be, Francis (our school's biggest ho, but one of the most attractive students there with a perverted mind)? Jesus Christ. I swear to God I'm never going to start dating some assholes in high school.

Or...so I thought.

* * *

Roughly two hours later, after showering, having a snack, and walking the four blocks to get to school, I sat with Arthur at the main hallway cafeteria tables, seeing as he had a couple of minutes to spare before the bell rung. Feliciano had ditched us immediately to hang out with some sleazy German asshole, so it was just me and Arthur.

We were quietly talking amongst ourselves, Arthur talking about these girls in the grade lower than us being suspended for drinking alcohol on the school's property, and I was half listening, half studying my nails. Suddenly, I felt Arthur grip my arm tightly, and heard him urgently whisper, "Lovi, look...there he is! The new student! Over there! Look, look!"

So I turned and looked.

...

...

...

Oh, sweet Jesus. God answered my prayers and sent my guardian angel down to earth to see me.

* * *

A/N: Hello! c: I'm feeling pretty confident about this. Hopefully nobody's been too OOC so far, I'd feel like crap if they were.

Thanks for reading the first chapter of my new story!

Stay classy.


	3. Chapter 2

Him.

Him.

_Him_.

Tall. Wavy brown hair. Gorgeous green eyes. Slim. Nicest ass on the planet. Oh, hot damn, those skinny jeans. On that ass? Man.

"Goodness. Attractive boy, yeah?" Arthur fanned himself with one hand. "I bet his accent is _waller_."

I was too distracted to ask what exactly _waller_ mean. I'm absolutely positive my mouth flopped open like a moron. I might've even drooled a bit.

This guy. Was fucking. _Hot._

Not just hot. _Fucking_ hot. As in, totally fuckable. Well, maybe not, I dunno, I'm kinda a virgin. But holy shit, man. You could practically see all the girls' panties drop from such a sight.

This guy had a hopelessly confused look on his face as he stood dead-center in the middle of the main hallway, glancing up into the crowd of people before glancing back down to a piece of paper in his hand. Was he lost? There're fucking millions of signs that could point him in the direction he wants, is he a fucking retard?

"He must be a real asshole, though," Arthur muttered, and that was enough to break my continuous staring to turn to him.

"Uh, what the hell makes you say that?"

"With _those _looks? With _that_ outfit? Please. All those real lookers are bastards, all of them. Take Simon Cowell, for instance."

"Oh, for God's sake, don't compare this prick to a fifty-year-old Brit asshole judge."

"Aha! You see? You called him a prick, right there."

"What-fucking-ever, Artsy." I turned back to the new kid, but my heart sank as I realized he had disappeared. Goddammit.

"Hey, I gotta piss. Class's about to start, so don't wait up for me," I told Arthur, standing up and slinging my backpack around my shoulders. He nodded in return, saluting at me without looking up from his phone.

I was going to be late to Pre-Calculus, but whatever. I never was too good at math, anyways; I'm more of a musical person. Or a history person. Or an drama person.

I hurried to the bathroom, but it was just my luck that they were remodelling them. So I had to go to the ones at the other side of the fucking _world_. With a groan and a sigh, I began my trip to the other building. Now I'll _definitely_ be late to fucking Pre-Cal. Shit. I really didn't need a detention slip the first fucking day of school.

Several minutes later, I was about fifty meters away from the bathroom when I heard a voice somewhere down that hall.

"Fresh meat looking damn fine."

I quirked an eyebrow, and slowly turned towards the voice. I felt the hair at the back of my neck stand up in paralyzed fear and goosebumps scattered across my arms.

It was Sadiq. Sadiq Adnan. The dumbest, thickest, scariest cunt prick bully at our school. He was still a junior at nineteen and a half, seeing how he never passes anything except automechanics. He was intimidating even with the teachers, his huge, hulking mass of muscle as a body and terrifying aura (he made Ivan look like a fucking dandelion-wait, no, nevermind, they were equally terrifying). Nobody dared fuck with him, not the principal, not the cops, not the fucking Queen of England. He got his way whenever and however, and wouldn't hesitate to beat the shit out of anyone who tried to stand up to him. He picks on me frequently, but I'm no fucking victim. If I tell him to fuck off enough times, he does, right after emotionally trying to tear me apart. But do _not_ take this lightly. Sadiq is one scary motherfucker.

Luckily, today wasn't my day to be beaten into a pulp. He had decided to pick on some other poor bastard who just so happened to be in his way.

Which happened to be...

...

Oh, no.

Sadiq grinned wolfishly, and it only took one hand to pin the new kid to the lockers. "How you doin', baby boy?"

The new kid merely blinked his big green eyes, before smiling innocently (God, what a smile). "Aha, I'm not a baby. I'm just new, silly."

"You could be my baby, if you want," Sadiq purred, and leaned in close to the new kid, hand sliding down to a small waist. "I'd hold you, care for you, feed you my milk...you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Slowly, the new kid's smile fell, and his emerald eyes darkened with realization. "I...I'm sorry, I'm not interested..."

"Not interested?" In a flash, Sadiq had one huge, powerful hand clamped tightly around the new kid's wrist, squeezing hard. I heard a startled gasp, and green eyes grew wide with fear. "Not interested? You can't lie to me, you little fucking faggot. All you fucking queers think about is dicks up your asses." Here he leaned in even closer. "Scared? Why don't you go home and cry to your daddy? Oh, wait-you can't. He probably rapes your ass everyday. And I bet you fucking _like_ it."

"Hey."

Both Sadiq and the new kid turned their gazes to me. I didn't mean to speak up, I was never one to be social or kind enough to step up for someone. But there was just something about this particular situation that made me feel like I couldn't just watch.

I narrowed my eyes and gave Sadiq my nastiest glare. "Go fuck with other people, dickhead. Not this one."

The Turkish bully didn't look fazed at all. "Fuck off, queer. Trying to teach the new faggot a lesson here."

"And I'm telling you to _fuck off_." I let my bag drop to the floor loudly, and stepped in closer to the older boy. "Let him go before I call the principal _and_ the police about the stash of weed under your mattress."

Sadiq froze, and actually hesitated, like he was really thinking over my threat. Finally, his hands fell away and he stepped back, mumbling not very nice words to md under his breath as he turned and stalked away.

I heard a sigh, and turned to the new kid, who's eyes had lost the vivid, real, intense fear in them. Then he smiled at me, and I swear that my face turned so red I thought my skin was ready to just fall away.

"_Graci-_I-I mean, thank you," He said softly, and pushed himself off the lockers. "That was so scary...I really appreciate it."

I shrugged, even though my cheeks were flames on my face. "'S no big deal."

"No, really! I-I haven't really...had anyone stick up for me before..." The new kid glanced away, and he suddenly looked terribly shy. He gave me an adorably embarrassed little grin, and I swear my heart flew up like a rocket through the roof when I saw the world's cutest dimples on his cheeks...

Whoa.

Wait.

Hold on there, Lovino.

You're an asshole. And you know you're an asshole. But then this fucker shows up at school and all of a sudden you're a puddle of melted chocolate?! No. This is not supposed to happen. All guys are bastards. This guy's probably gonna have some whore hanging off his arm at the end of the day, anyways. Stop acting like a goddamn pussy and _do not let this dick push your feelings around._

_..._

It's not like I ever listen to my inner thoughts anyways.

But I guess some part of my inner thoughts had control over my body, for I just scoffed at the new kid and turned to carry on my way. "Whatever."

"W-Wait!"

God. This kid was a leech. With a loud, long-suffering sigh, I turned back around.

I saw the new kid's Adam's apple rise and fall as he swallowed hard. "I...I hope this isn't a big issue, but...do you know where McIntosh's Pre-Calculus class is? I'm so bad at directions and signs it's not even funny, ahaha...~"

This dipshit was in my first period? Jesus Christ. I mean, he was hot and all, but as the time went on from standing in the same vicinity as this guy, it became very evident that this guy was not very...uh...smart. Cute, but not the brightest Crayola in the pack.

I rolled my eyes, and as I turned back on my heel, I gestured for him to follow me. "You're damn lucky we happen to have the same class. Now move it-class started, like, five minutes ago."

The kid gasped. "It did?! Oh, no, we have to hurry!"

"Relax. You're new; you're not gonna get detention the first day."

"Oh." He sounded relieved, but that quickly changed. "Ah...what about you? Are _you _going to get in trouble?"

I shrugged with one shoulder, feeling that backpack strap slip down my arm slightly. "Probably. I don't give a fuck, though."

For some reason, that made the new kid laugh. Huh. Strange guy. I half-expected him to be a bit disgusted or offended by my language. I tend to cuss a lot, mostly when I feel like it, regardless of whoever's listening, but I most of the time get dirty looks whenever I do so. Not with this guy, however, so...that was a plus.

The walk to Pre-Cal was quiet, but not awkward. Like, I could feel a really legitimate comfortable feel in the atmosphere we were in, and I don't think I had ever felt that way in my entire _life_.

"So, uh...how did you know that guy had a...stash of...weed...under his mattress?"

"I didn't. I just guessed he did. And I guess now I know he does."

Another tinkly, melodic laugh. It was at that moment that I had decided I...kinda liked that laugh of his.

* * *

Obviously, we were late, and upon entering the classroom, I felt all eyes on us. Don't you just hate that feeling? That feeling that you walk in a room and everyone's staring at you? Ugh. Makes me feel so fucking uncomfortable I just want to leave.

"Good morning, gentlemen," Mr. McIntosh deadpanned. "Had a nice time together?"

My math teacher just unintentionally turned a semi-serious sentence into a perverted pun. Oh, my God. The class started giggling and snickering like little children, and I felt all the blood I had in my feet, legs, and torso migrate up into my cheeks.

I peeked a glance at Antonio. His expression, for some reason, stayed neutral. He just simply smiled sheepishly at the teacher and said, "Sorry."

McIntosh seemed to have barely heard him (which was pretty jilting, since McIntosh was a fairly young teacher to have, and I'm pretty sure thirty-year-olds don't typically have hearing problems), and turned to me. "Mr. Vargas. At your seat. We'll talk about your detention later."

With a nearly inaudible sigh, I trudged to my seat, which just so happened to be at the back of the room, so I _pleasantly_ got to thoroughly enjoy that same constant staring from twenty-eight people (including Arthur, who gave me his famous _what the fuck_ face). I slipped into my desk, in which was placed directly beside the person I really, really, _really_ didn't want to sit next to: Elizabeta Hédévary. Don't even get me started on this bitch. Seriously. Don't. I'm warning you. You don't wanna know. I wanted to know, so someone told me, and I don't wanna know anymore, so trust me when I say you don't wanna know.

The brunette turned and sent me a sweet (evil) smile of greeting, but I saw the smirk within the pale pink gloss of her lips. Then she lifted her hand off the table in a very discreet way to gesture at the new kid. She gave me a look that said words she didn't need to say: _holy crap that guy is hot and oh don't mind me I'm just going to secretly ship you two from now on._

Before I got the chance to flip this weird bitch off, my teacher spoke to the class. "Everyone, I would like for you all to welcome and respect our newest student at this school, Anthony Fernandez-Carriedo."

The kid was actually looking a bit peeved. "It's, uh...it's Antonio, sir."

"Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo. Right. Anyways, you may go sit over there beside Gilbert. Gilbert, raise your hand."

Oh, God. Putting him next to Gilbert? Fuck my asshole. You know, I had such high expectations for this boy; I really and truly did. Buuuut that flew out the window fucking _immediately,_ for now it's official that this Antonio kid's gonna turn out to be just another brainless clone in Gilbert the Massive Potato Dick's posse. That albino jackass, the older brother of Feli's German loser friend, he basically rules this fucking school. Well...at least...he would if Sadiq wouldn't be there to beat the crap out of him.

Potato Dick grinned, and his arm shot up in the air, waving wildly at the new kid. "Aww, yeeeah, brother! You get the awesomest in this place: right next to the awesome me! Hell yeah!" Ugh. What an obnoxious voice. I wish you could slap people in class. I mean, Sadiq already does that, why can't I?

With a small grin, Antonio slipped down into the seat beside Gilbert, and McIntosh started class. It was absolutely no surprise that Gilbert and Antonio were already whispering together and giggling like they were little fucking twelve-year-old best friends. So much for trying to save a new student.

Maybe I should just stop trying altogether.

* * *

Morning classes passed incredibly quickly, which was pretty unusual for me. I found my Grade Eleven Advanced French class stretching on much longer than the other classes before that, and I also found myself thinking back to the meeting with Antonio.

In French, we had the whole class to write two to four paragraphs about ourselves and what we did over the summer break, but I just couldn't focus on it at all. All I could do was stare off into space, my cheek on my upturned palm, thinking about brown hair, green eyes, cute butt, and the sweetest smile I had ever seen...

"Lovino," a stern voice addressed me. My head whipped in the direction of the voice, and I found my French teacher's brown eyes narrowed and glaring through my soul. "_Fait ton travaille._"

I supressed the urge to roll my eyes, but another voice chimed in behind me, "_Oui_, Lovino, _fait ton travaille~"_

Ugh. Francis. Yet another dick I want to kill off this planet, yet another minion in Gilbert's army. I turned towards the smirking blond and flipped him off under the table, but he only snickered and turned back to his conversation with a cute Canadian named Matthew.

_Okay. Lovino, focus now. Forget about the fucking new kid for one minute and write some shit down._

So I started writing.

_Je m'appelle Lovino. Je suis né en Italie. J'ai un petit frère qui s'appelle Feliciano. Je peux parler en italienne, anglais, et français. J'ai dix-sept ans. J'aime le magasinage. J'aime les tomates. _

After a few minutes of writing, my feelings started taking over instead of my brain.

_J'aime les cheveux bruns. J'aime les yeux vertes. J'aime les beaux garçons qui vient de l'Espagne..._

Oh, my fucking God.

What the hell was I doing.

Angry, annoyed, and embarrassed all at the same time, I folded my paper in half, then in quarters, then in eighths, then in sixteenths, until it was a tiny, folded rectangle. Then, I grabbed scissors out of my my pencil case and started chopping.

Snip, snip, snip. Until there were barely shreds on my desk. When I had finished cutting, I gathered all the tiny strips and tossed them in the garbage. Right now, I count hardly care if I got another detention slip for not doing my work, so I just leanes on my desk and buried my head into my arms, shutting my eyes tight.

All the while, I felt Francis' blue eyes on me questioningly. I brushed them off.

* * *

"So what's your problem now?" Arthur asked me later, in the cafeteria at lunchtime, slowly and daintily nibbling on his salad. "You look like you have to say something."

I sighed heavily, twirling my fork around my plate of lasagna (I surprisingly had enough money to buy the five dollar lunch special, which was lasagna, a Caesar salad, a breadstick, and a small drink). "I...I don't know if I can...really say it."

"Oh, come on," Arthur pressed, and accepted the breadstick I handed to him. "Don't get shy around your best lad, now."

"I don't think it has to do with shyness," I admitted. "I-It's kind of like...I can't say it because it sounds ridiculous."

"Oh. Well, tell me anyways." I saw my British friend lift his hand off the table in a shy wave as Alfred walked by, who obviously smiled and waved back. "I seriously want to know how badly you've messed up your life on the first day of school."

"Okay. Ah..." I took a deep breath, and held it. "...I...m-may or may not...have a crush on Antonio."

Across the table, Arthur's jaw dropped, and he also dropped his fork into his salad. His eyes were wide and his eyebrows were raised in shock (in fact, he looked so shocked, I honestly thought his eyebrows were going to animate themselves and jump off his face).

"No bloody way!" He exclaimed, which drew a bit of attention from the tables nearby. "No! Oh, Lovino, the new kid?! This is great!"

"Shush!" I hissed, my cheeks set aflame. "No, it's not fucking great, and keep your damn voice down, for Chrissakes."

"No way," Arthur repeated, but lowered his voice. "Oh, my Lord, this cannot be happening. This is incredibly. Little Lovino finally has a crush on someone."

I rolled my eyes. "Fuck you. I had a crush on Femke before."

"Yeah. 'Crush'. In grade two. You had no fucking idea you were a total homo when we were in grade two."

"Whatever. But hey, it's not a big deal. Don't make this a big deal. Seriously," I told my friend firmly.

Arthur responded by zipping his lips, locking them, and throwing away the key. "My lips are sealed. Hey, uh...I...need to go talk to Liz for a bit."

I frowned at him. The freaky bitch? He _never_ talks to her. "Uh...why?"

"Oh, uh-" Arthur hesitated-he was such a bad liar sometimes, it almost made me laugh. "-we have a homework assignment in Family Studies, and we need to talk it over. But I'll catch up with you later, yeah? After school? Toodles." And with that, my friend stood up, patted my head, and hurried off up the cafeteria stairs, leaving me by my lonesome.

How did I know he was lying? It's the first day. Nobody gets homework assignments on the first fucking day. What a fucking liar.

Out of the corner of my eye at Gilbert's posse table, I saw Antonio turn in my general direction, and he gave me one of those killer smiles again. I felt my cheeks grow hot very quckly, and I turned my head away, pretending I didn't see him smile.

Fuuuck. What the hell was I supposed to do? All I could really hope for is that Arthur doesn't do anything that I might have to kill him for later in life.

* * *

A/N: Did I mention there'll possibly be really awful lemon scenes in the future chapters ?

Thanks for reading.

Stay classy.


	4. Chapter 3

The rest of the week passed on the same as it did the day before; slow, boring, nothing really happened. School still sucked ass, Arthur kept poking at me, and Antonio was still insanely good-looking. Wow, I thought Wednesday morning, if school's going to be like this the whole year, I'm down with that.

And I was. I really, really was. Less shit to deal with.

Thursday evening, however, was the official first day of dance lessons. You read that right. Dance lessons. Shaking my head. I think I'd rather stay all winter with my tongue stuck to a frozen pole.

There was nothing I fucking hated more than dance classes, except for Richard Cock and paper cuts. I hated the stupid teacher, I hated the stupid students, and I especially hated the skin-tight, black leotard that was mandatory to buy (the damned shit was eighty-five bucks, dammit). I felt all exposed, and to dance and sweat in a room of twelve girls and two other guys was the most itchiest, awkwardest thing ever. I've been taking dance for about four years now, and after every class, I go home and cry. I'm not sure what I cry for: the awkwardness in every single class, or the fact that I simply _can't fucking dance. _

At five p.m., I pushed open the doors to the dance studio and stepped inside. It was unusually cold inside, which only made matters worse since I was hoping for a warmer temperature opposed to the icy hell outside.

"Hello, Lovino!" A bright, cheery voice came somewhere to the right of me, and I inwardly groaned. My stupid dance instructor, some blonde bimbo named Susie. She was pretty, young-ish, and had abnormally white teeth, but that was no excuse _not_ to hate her. "How was your summer~?"

"Fine," I muttered, and to avoid any more conversation with her, slipped into the mens' changerooms.

_Why do you still take these classes, Lovino?_ you ask. _Why would you continue to take something you hate doing? _

Well.

Uh.

That's none of your fucking business, is it now?

...

Okay...it's...kind of my...guilty pleasure, but that's not the point! Okay, it is, but whatever. I only do it because it's something to do, you know? I don't wanna be some kind of loser that doesn't do any after-school activities...even if that's what I do end up telling people, because obviously I'm not gonna fucking tell them I take stupid all-genre group dance lessons every Thursday.

Lucky for me: no one was changing in the changerooms yet, so it was just me. I shed my clothing and slid into the stupid black leotard.

I hated wearing it. Its soft, black material clung to every womanly curve I was cursed with, which totally did not make me look manly and professional at all. Hell, I have more curves that the other twelve sluts in my class. Another reason to hate myself: I barely have any testosterone in my body.

I quickly slipped on my stupid slippers and hurried out of the changerooms. I entered the studio once again, and everyone was already there. The girls were in their leotards and dance short. in a huge circle, and the boys were looking as awkward and uncomfortable as I was feeling. When I stepped in, some of the girls turned to smile at me, but the others glanced at me before looking away snootily. The guys turned to me with a smile, but as if remembering I'm not exactly a chick (yet), they quickly looked away.

Today seemed like my lucky day, for I didn't have to do any awkward waiting because Susie decided to start class right there and then.

"Good afternoon, boys and girls~!" She greeted cheerfully. "It's so nice to see all of you after two months of break. I hope you all stayed in shape~! Remember: exercise is for the better citizens of America~!"

Already I wanted to kill her.

"To start off todays class, we're going to be doing some bar stretches, but as we're doing that, everybody's going to get a couple of minutes to tell the class what they did over the break~ Let's get to it!"

Oh, my fucking God. What was this, fucking grade three?! And _bar stretches._ I can't even touch my toes and this bitch wants me to lift my leg up to the moon. But this was like a prison, so I had no choice but to go along with it.

A few moments later, my ankle was resting on the bar in front of the mirror, and I was stretching my arm out to try to lean my whole body across the expanse of my leg. Hah. Like _hell_ I was going to do that.

What surprised me was the jingle of the bells over the main entrance doors of the studios that was heard about five minutes later. It surprised me because there usually isn't anybody who comes in during a class. We were in the middle of listening to some slut's story of her life, and it was just very unexpected and weird.

"Sorry I'm late!" A guy's voice cried out. I refused to believe that was not a guy's voice,, but some butchy girl's voice instead (or maybe a lesbian's voice...was that offensive? Probably not, seeing how I'm pretty homo myself). What struck me was how familiar this guy's voice was, but I was currently stuck at the moment, so I couldn't exactly turn around to look. "I missed my bus and I had to wait quite a bit for the next one!"

The girl's babble stopped, and Susie lifted her leg off the bar to examine the guy, unsmiling. "...O-Oh, uh, th-that's quite alright! W-We were just starting class a few minutes ago, so you didn't miss anything~"

Her eyes were wide, like what she was seeing startled her.

There was a sigh, and then the guy's voice again. "Oh, thank goodness. I'd feel very guilty if I was interrupting the whole class."

Susie gave the newcomer a tight-lipped smile. "No, no...anyways, I'll let you go get changed~"

"Alright!" I heard the soft padding of feet hurrying along the soft, plushy mattress floor of the studio, and the quiet close of the door to the men's changeroom.

Why did he sound so damn familiar? I've definitely heard that voice before...but where? Some bastard at school, maybe? At the mall? On the radio? Dude, I don't fucking know.

Fortunately, we continued doing our stupid leg stretches while also continuing to go around the room to share your summer. I was third-last to go, seeing how the other guy losers were too shy to go before me. There were four girls away from it being my turn when I heard the changeroom door open and close, before the same pittering of feet along tje floor.

Susie politely interrupted the girl's longass and boring talk, and turned the guy with a smile. "Thank you for joining us, uh..."

"Antonio. It's Antonio."

No.

"Wonderful! Antonio, you can go right along behind Lovino there and start stretching~"

No.

"Okay~!" I heard the guys behind me shuffle back a bit more on the bar to make room, and another body slid in behind me.

No.

No.

No.

_**NO. **_

I-It can't be...it's impossible...this is not actually...!

"Hi," Antonio said.

I hope he's not talking to me.

"Ah, Lovino, was it? That's a cool name. Nice to meet you~"

"...Yeah," I muttered lowly.

Fuck me.

Just...please don't...say something...about...

"Hey, ah...do I...know you? There's just something about you that seems so familiar...~"

No. We've never met before. We're absolutely strangers. I have never seen such a human in my life.

"Do you...go to school around here?"

I lowered my head, allowing my bangs to fall unattractively in front of my eyes. My thighs were starting to ache from the massive stretching I was doing to them. My cheeks were burgundy. My heart was an 808 drum. It seemed that silence was the best option for me.

"A-Ah...I...hope I'm not...offending you or anything...or asking something too personal...you just...you look like...oh, I can't think of him off the top of my head..."

Still I refused to say something.

Just give up, I mentally told Antonio, hoping he was telepathic and could get the hint.

Seeing as there was a huge lack in communication, Antonio went silent as well and we both listened to the next girls tall about their amazing and fun summer.

Then...it was my turn.

Even though they were standing in front of me, I could feel the other girls turn to regard me in the mirror.

"...Lovino?" Susie asked softly.

I made my decision. "...Pass."

"Pass? B-But...don't you want to share something with the class?"

"No," I replied coolly. "Honestly, it's none of your people's business."

Susie had this look of great shock on her face. I was pleased to see that. Thankfully, she just nodded quickly. "Antonio?"

Antonio started on cheerfully, but I blocked out his words and stared at the hole in my slipper for the rest of class.

* * *

The next forty-five minutes were a blur. I don't think I can remember anything of what we did, except for Antonio making me feel even more embarrassed than I already was. I did nothing but practically run out of the room, because I really didn't want to stay there any longer than necessary. I had just reached the handle of the studio when a voice called out, "Hey!"

Stupid me, I turned around. Lucky me - it was Antonio. Still wearing his dance outfit. I pleasantly took that opportunity to check him out, from his long legs to his lean torso. Fuck me, he was a babe with that tightass outfit on, holy shit.

He was smiling, which made my heart flutter even though I wasn't sure if he was already smiling or smiling at me, and held out a slipper. "I think you forgot this~"

My cheeks were burning, and I all but snatched the slipper out of his hand. "Thanks so fucking much," I snorted, and turned to leave again.

"Wait!"

Good Lord, what the fuck did he want now? With an aggravated growl, I turned back around to face him. "_What_?"

His gorgeous smile turned softer, kinder, and my heart nearly melted from how perfect and sweet he looked right now. "I know you. You were the one who saved me the other day from that big guy, right? And we're in the same math class."

Huh. Good memory. Still dumb, though.

"...So fucking what if I am?" I muttered, turning back towards the door. My hand was on the handle but I didn't push it open. Why?

"I'd like to, uh...get to know you...a bit better." Then he tried a different approach, for some reason I couldn't fucking comprehend. "I want to chill and hang wit' you some time, homie, you dig?"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...No?"

I was trying not to giggle, and I surprised myself when I actually managed to swallow it down. "No. Now fuck off."

"Lovino, please, wait...!"

I wanted to slap this guy. What a freaking dickhead moron.

I spun around and snapped, "Stop fucking saying 'wait, wait wait'! I'm not fucking going anywhere, stupid!"

For a moment he looked startled, frightened, almost, but then it melted away into that pretty smile I liked.

"Sorry. I just...could I..." He fidgeted, interlocking his hands behind his back and rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. "...get...your...number...maybe?"

My eyebrows raised, and my anger dissipated. "...What?"

"Your number," Antonio repeated softly. "Could I have it?"

My...what? Seriously? This poof wanted my number? Are you kidding me? My face seemed to explode into ten million shades of red. No one...has ever really...asked me that before...

I narrowed my eyes at Antonio, as if I could see through his soul and analyze him from the inside (that sounded weird...wow). "...What for?"

His smile got sweeter, and I could tell he was growing a bit bolder now. "To talk to you more often, silly~"

"Yeah, I get that, but...why?"

Antonio tilted his head, giving me a squinty look of confusion. "Why what, Lovino?"

"Why do you want to talk to me?" I lowered my head, feeling my hair fall over my eyes. "I don't exactly like talkng...nor do I do it a lot..."

For a moment, he was silent. From under my chestnut hair I could feel his gorgeous, glittering green eyes on me. I could feel his smile, feel his kindness, feel his warmth radiating off his perfect body, and for the first time in a while, I felt comfort in something that was away from home. Then he spoke:

"That's why I want to talk to you. You're a mysterious person, Lovino."

"What do you know about me?" I whispered, and I found myself clutching my bag straps tightly, tight enough that my knuckles turned white.

"Not enough."

Asshole. What a fucking asshole. What a _fucking_ asshole.

I can't say I've ever been in a situation quite like this one...no one's wanted to ask me for my number, or, at least, no one's had the balls to, so I had absolutely no idea what to do or say at this point. My brain and heart ditched me, so it was just myself and my vocal chords.

...What the fuck's with these stupid, realistic situations suddenly jumping and attacking me?! Goddammit!

"Give your phone," I said suddenly, outstretching my hand.

Antonio blinked dumbly (and I took that moment to notice and admire how long and dark and curled his lashes were...God, I needed to stop doing that). "...Eh?"

"Your _phone_, you bastard," I snarled. "Give it."

"O-Okay," Antonio stammered. "Hold on, it's in my bag...lemme get it..."

I folded my arms across my chest. "Go. Hurry. You're wasting my time."

"Going, going!" He turned and hopped back into the changerooms. He returned briefly, phone in hand, smile in face, and handed it to me. "Here ya go~"

I took it cautiously, and was about to turn the mobile on when I noticed the phone cover on it. It must've been personalized, because it was a...

"...Tomato phone case?"

"Ahaha, yep," Antonio responded with a sheepish grin. "My favourite fruit in the whole wide world~!"

"Huh." I slid the lock screen open (dumbshit didn't even have a passcode). "I...like them, too..."

I could feel Antonio's amazed look on his face and heard his small gasp. "Really?! That's amazing! Everyone I know hates tomatoes! That's something we have in common, hee hee~"

_Moron. _

After a few minutes of furious typing and setting up, I handed Antonio his phone back."Here."

Antonio took his phone and studied it like it was some kind of newly-introduced species of animal. "What did you do to it...?"

I sighed loudly. "I put myself as one of your contacts, idiot. A bunch of my information is there, too."

"Oh!" He actually blushed and widened his eyes. "I, uh...th-thanks, Lovino~!"

"Don't mention it." I turned back on my heel for the trillionth time and pushed open the door to the studio. As I closed the door behind me, I heard a soft, sweet voice.

"I'll text you later tonight..._Lovi_."

* * *

"Can you believe it?!" I snarled into my phone, kicking off my shoes, shrugging off my jacket and plopping on my bed. "He's in the _same fucking dance class as me! _Like, literally what the fuck."

On the other side of the call, Arthur snorted with laughter._ "Bloody hell! What are the odds, yeah?"_

"Yeah! It's like he's spying on me, or maybe he's a stalker. 'Cause, like, I haven't told anybody but you that I'm taking those stupid less-"

My words trailed off. Something just clicked in my mind.

_"...Lovi?"_ Arthur tried.

"...I'm going to kill you," I replied calmly. "You told him..._didn't_ you?"

_"Now, now, Lovino, let's not point the finger at anybody specific just yet...that 'anybody' being me..."_

"You told him," I accused, feeling my cheeks heat up with anger and betrayal. "You fucking _told him."_

_"I didn't tell him jackshit,"_ Arthur insisted. _"We haven't even bloody talked yet, for Christ's sake."_

"Then how...would he...fucking _know?!"_

_"Uh, maybe he didn't? Ever thought of that? Maybe he's just some poof who wanted to know how to dance. It was a complete coincidence, Lovi. Jesus."_

I sat there on my bed, still holding my phone to my ear while I thought. Could that really be the case? Maybe I was too fucking paranoid. Why would Antonio fucking stalk me, anyways? I'm boring as fuck.

"...Maybe you're right," I said softly to Arthur.

"I'm always right. Anyways, I gotta run; Alfie's meeting me at the cinema tonight, so I gotta look nice for the boy. Cheers." He hung up before I could say goodbye. What a dick.

I let out a long, shuddering sigh, clicked off my phone, and laid it on the pillow beside me. I was starting to think Arthur was drifting away from me, slowly but surely, to hang out with that stupid fucking pig Alfred. Like he's choosing some big, dumb blond football player over me, his bestest fucking friend in the while world.

Whatever. Arthur can do whatever the fuck he wants to do, I don't give a shit.

_Ting. _

A text. Huh. Okay. Who was it this time?

I grabbed my phone again, and lifted it up to my eyes.

_+(2347163018) sent you a message: Hey Lovi ! It's Toni ! :D _

I sighed for the millionth time (I sigh so often it could quite possibly be my pasttime). I felt my cheeks get hot, and I drunmed my fingers nervously on my knee. Did I really have the guts to respond back? It was just Antonio, so I really had nothing to worry about when it came to language and speech. But that's when I realized...I actually didn't know that much about Antonio at all.

I clicked my phone off, not replying, and placed it on my night table before I got undressed and tucked into my warm, fluffy comforters.

I wasn't ready to talk to him...not yet, at least...maybe some other day.

I closed my eyes and relaxed, but I wasn't planning to sleep just yet, seeing how it wasn'r very late. My mind drifted from one topic to another, all leading back into Antonio, when suddenly...I thought of something.

_Junior Grad Night. _

_In June._

_Oh, good Lord. _

_Fuck my life completely._

* * *

A/N: The chapters are going kinda slowish, I know. Let me tell you something: all you grade 12 Canadians out there reading my shit, beware of Grade 12 Heritage Fair. It just so happens to be a bitch, so bitch things are gonna happen. Anditstomorrowholyshitimfucked. Later chapters will proceed a bit more normally than this one.

Thanks for reading.

Stay classy.

**not a real phone number. Well...it might be...maybe in China, or the States, or something.


	5. Chapter 4

Thank fucking Christ it was Saturday tomorrow. I had absolutely no intent to listen to bitches and bastards any longer...or, well, at least for two days.

I sat in Health class, gazing longingly out the window and happily blocking out whatever my bitch teacher was saying. I liked spring more, but autumn was actually very pretty. Most people would think it's depressing and gloomy, but it's just beautiful. The colour in the leaves turns into one solid colour instead, and they fall from the trees and cover the ground. The trees are left barren, cold, with no shelter anymore, and this is the part in when nature goes gothic.

So very pretty.

...

...

No, I definitely did _not_ just make that statement right on the spot 'cause I'm looking out the window. Whatever, what do you know, anyways?

"...flour-baby project...get you into partners today...be parents for a month..."

Uh.

_**WHAT? **_

Oh,** hell **no.

"To make things even more complicated, I will be choosing your partner."

And then she started pairing people up, and my palms started to sweat. Oh, my fucking God. I _hated_ partner-projects. Everybody's an asshole, because they dump all the shit onto me right away, and I end up saving both our asses by getting above 90 and telling the teacher we did equal amount of work. And what do they do to thank me? Do the SAME SHIT AGAIN.

"Mr. Vargas, you'll be in a group with Mr. Fernandez-Carriedo. Please decide between the two who will be the supporting mother and working father."

Oh.

My.

Dear.

Sweet.

Jesus.

I am so fucked.

I slowly peeked over at Antonio. He had the brightest smile on as he waved at me enthusiastically. Then he gestured me to come sit next to him. Ugh. Do I really have to?

I glanced around the room, and noticed everybody was sitting beside their partner and talking inanimately about their baby. With a sigh, I forced myself to drag my ass over to Antonio and slunk down in the seat next to him. "...Hi."

"Hi, Lovi," The Spanish dickhead greeted, but his voice was so damn sexy and smooth that it practically came out like a purr. "Ready to be parents~?"

There was nothing wrong with that question, only the fact that it was Antonio who said it, so by default, I felt my face heat up immensely. "Yeah," I snapped. "I just wanna fucking get this done with."

To my immense surprise, Antonio nodded with a grimace. "I do, too. I've always hated this class. So boring, you know? And so homophobic, too. Like, why do gays and lesbians have to know what they're missing out on? That's not fair to their community."

I have a very slight feeling he was subtly hinting at me, which is stupid for me to think, because he has no idea that I'm queer as fuck. Or does he?

"...Yeah," I heard myself say in response.

At that moment, the teacher came up to our desk and placed a small sack of flour on top of Antonio's binder along with a sheet of paper. "Here you go, boys. I expect a high mark on this project. It's always easier when there are two men caring a child."

I blushed. Again. Fuck me.

"Will do, ma'am!" Antonio said with a sickingly sweet smile, and that was enough for the teacher to nod briskly and saunter away. Then, I heard the most adorable squeal I have ever heard in my life. "Oh, Lovi, look! It's our baby! Oh, what're we gonna name him~?"

I frowned at him. "Nothing stupid."

"Okay! How about...Julio?"

"I just fucking said nothing stupid."

"José?"

"Stupid."

"Juan?"

"Stupid."

"Enrique?"

"Stupid."

"But those are all Spanish names!"

"I fucking know that. That's why they're stupid."

"Pleeeeeeeease can we choose a Spanish name, Lovi?" Then the bastard gave me this adorable pout, and I had to resist the urge to just lean in and capture those adorable lips in between my own.

Focus, Lovino, focus, goddammit!

I rolled my eyes, and sighed loudly. "Fiiiiiine."

"Yay! Okay, Emanuel it is!"

"No."

"Joaquin?"

"No."

"Alejandro?"

"No."

"Raul?"

"No."

"Miguel?"

"For fuck's sake, Antonio!"

* * *

We finally settled on naming the stupid sack of flour Francisco, because Antonio insisted that his nickname would be Paco. Like, seriously? How do you fucking get Paco out of _Francisco_? Fucking Spanish people, man.

Although...I do have to admit that the way Antonio pronounces Spanish names sounds insanely hot. Especially when he said Enrique. Mmm, damn...I was liking this kid way too much for my own good.

Anyways, after Health, I trudged over to my locker, only to find some blonde girl with a varsity football jacket on and heels (those shoes with _that_ jacket? Giiiiiirl, you need Jesus). She was waiting for me, for some reason, with pink, pouty lips and way-too-much-eyeshadowed narrowed eyes.

"Hello, Lovino," She purred, and purposely leaned all her weight against my locker so there was no way I could open it with her fat ass there. "I've been wanting to talk to you."

I snorted. "Sorry, you must've gotten the wrong person. Go check in the Flexible Learning hall for another kid names Lovino."

"No, I think I've got the right person. Vargas, right?"

So this bitch did want to talk to me. "Yeah? And who are you?"

She smiled what would've appeared to be a sweet smile, but I saw the evil on her lips. "You'll know me soon enough. Anyways, I've...been wanting to ask you something."

"Shoot."

"I know how you've been hanging around with that Antonio boy lately. The new student."

"So?"

Her smile widened. "So I wanted to get your opinion of him before I ask him out to Junior Prom."

My blood ran cold, and I suddenly got goosebumps on my arms. Fuck, this bitch wanted to ask Antonio out? Fuck no. I don't give a shit whether or not Antonio was straight, he's not going to get with this slut just to be dumped for another hot guy. From what I know of him so far, he was far too innocent to get caught up with bitches and shit. So I simply shrugged and said, "He's cool. Fun guy. Pretty dumb, though."

"Really?" The girl looked disappointed, almost. "What about his looks?"

It was my turn to narrow my eyes. "What about them?"

She rolled her eyes and smacked her lips. "Is he hot?"

Immediately I blushed. "Uh...y...yeah, I guess..."

"So he's hot?"

"Sure...?"

"Just hot? Nothing more than that?"

"What the hell are you hinting at?"

Her smile fell, and she turned from pretty, sweet girl to not-so-pretty, scary girl. She placed a delicate hand on my arm, and promptly dug her nails into my skin, making me wince.

"I know how you feel about him...faggot."

Oh, _greeeeeat_. Another member oF Sadiq's homophobic army. Just what I needed on this perfect fucking Friday. "Fuck off," I said politely, before moreorless shoving her out of the way so I could open my locker.

Unfortunately for me, I'm kind of one of those people those Texans say are 'all hat and no cattle', because in a flash, she shoved _me_ back and slammed my locker door shut again.

"Keep those queer fantasies of yours nothing more than fantasies," She sneered. Wow, what a bitch. When she made that bitter face, she reminded me of a wrinkled prune that's been sitting out in the sun for a week. "Because Antonio is _mine_. And he always will be mine."

I snorted with laughter, amused by this whore's _ooh so scary _threats. "Wow, you sound like his stalker. Want me to tell him his mom was checking up on him?"

"Just stay away from him," She hissed one last final time before she spun around on her heels and twitched away. If she shook her ass any more when she walked, I'm going to break her.

I shook my head and turned back to my locker. Crazy, desperate sluts these days. But then I started to wonder what would happen if Antonio said yes to her? I'd give him eleven days before he decides to jump off a cliff. I'm not exactly a good person, though...so why should I save this guy from many days he could have having fun instead? Well...for all I know, she could be his life-long girlfriend, and I could just be some typical asshole who pissed off an innocent girl.

Nah. There's no way.

"What the hell am I doing to myself?" I muttered as I yanked my French binder from the top shelf and slammed the door. I'd be late to class, but I didn't care.

The question was rhetorical...almost.

* * *

"Psst! Lovino!" Another wad of paper was tossed at me, and I quiety fumed from my desk. It had been fifteen minutes. Fifteen fucking minutes. What the fuck does he WANT from me?!

"What?" I whispered savagely, whipping around to burn daggers into Francis's stupid face. "What the HELL do you want, you wrinkled, old frog dick?"

Blue eyes twinkled, and freakishly perfect lips curled into (what was supposed to be) a seductive smile. "May I speak with you, _mon beau, cher_ Lovino~?"

What was it with fucking people today asking me shit and talking to me like I suddenly fucking exist? It's like I'm now a person since I talk to Antonio. "About _what_, dickhead?"

"About...someone."

I was already tired of this conversing bullshit, but I'd be a dumbass if I passed up an opportunity like this. Francis Bonnefoy wanted to gossip with Lovino Vargas?! Le gasp.

I found myself scooched up next to his desk, waiting for the French-babble to happen. It did, but in a very...unexpected way.

Francis licked his lips nervously, glanced around the room to see if anyone was eavesdropping, and seeing none, turned back to me.

"Okay...so...you..:you are Arthur's, er...best friend, correct?"

I cocked an eyebrow (haha...cocked...maturity level: 100). "...Sure."

"Do you know if he has a date to Junior Prom already?"

Whoa. Uh, suddenly, I didn't want to be a part of this. But something inside me made me have a word-vomit. "He probably does. He's really into Alfred, you know, as in, Alfred Jones, son of a CEO and hunky football player. But they're not dating yet, because Arthur's scared, and 'boyfriend' is a scary word or whatever, and he's also scared that Alfred's secretly a homophobe and if Arthur asked him out, Alfred would run to his daddy and begin an LGBT genocide."

...

Blink. Blink.

...

"Yep," I added, as if that made things any better.

"Wow," Francis muttered. "So you're telling me there's a chance?"

"Yeah." Why did I say that? If Arthur found out I was spilling my guts out to Frogger, he'd literally sneak into my house at night, cast a magical, voodoo spell on me, and next thing I know, I'd be stuck with the face of a gaping anus for the rest of my life.

Francis smiled broadly, and reached over to pat my head. "Thank you for the information, darling. And please...please don't tell Arthur...please," He pleaded, his voice soft with desperation.

I should tell Arthur. I honestly should. But I get the feeling I won't, because I'm such a sweet fucking person like that. I roughly brushed off Frogger's slimy hand (memo to me: scrub hair furiously once you get back home...Frogger probably had his hand touching some girl's cunt last period and decided not to wash it) and returned to my work. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now piss off."

My ass is going to be on Arthur's wall. I can totally visualize him coming towards me with a steak knife. And that'll be the end of me.

* * *

Several boring-ass classes later, whoop de fucking doo, it was lunch time. I went to mine and Arthur's usual spot in the cafeteria, but to my disappointment, he wasn't there. Huh. That cocksucker must've gone to sit with sweet, handsome, Prince Charming Alfred. Suuure. Thanks for letting me know ahead of time, dickhead.

With a slightly saddened sigh, I slunked down at the table, and started to eat my bagged lunch like the loser I am.

Yep. This is me. In my natural habitat. A complete loser. _Disconnected, _i.e, irrelevant. At least with Arthur, I didn't seem so loserish, but now that he's ditched me, it's kind of like...oh. Back to square one.

Did I wish I had more friends? Perhaps. It could be a possibility. Would I be able to manage having more friends? Hell fucking no. If anything, I'd only want one or two friends to hang out with and talk to, not two fucking thousand like those bitches on Facebook or Instagram. Less friends, less drama. That's my motto, I don't know about you.

I picked at my Caesar salad with my head cast down, refusing to meet eyes with whoever's walking past. There were lots of talking and loud little shits and laughter, and at that moment, I just felt so...sad. They were having fun...I...was not.

It was a depressing feeling, being alone and sad when you could be surrounded by friends and be happy. But I needed to learn that I can't depend on other people to keep me happy and comfortable. I needed to change me if I wanted to feel better about myself.

_Creeeak_. I felt the wood I was sitting on bend slightly as someone slipped next to me at my table. I flinched, not exactly expecting it, and turned my face away from whoever was now sitting next to me.

Crap. It's gotta be some asshole who wants to bring me down. Maybe it's that blonde bitch from earlier, or maybe it was Sadiq, or maybe it was the president...even so, I couldn't muster the strength to look at them.

"Hi."

I bit my bottom lip hard, so I wouldn't accidentally blurt out something stupid, but my face suddenly got so hot and flushed that the thought of saying something unintentionally slipped my mind.

I turned my face away from this gorgeous Spanish boy, instead focusing on a spot on the wall.

"May I...sit here?"

Still I couldn't look at him. Right now, I felt as though I would slice someone in half if we held eye contact.

"...Well," I muttered darkly. "You already invited yourself here, so..."

"Oh." Antonio cleared his throat, and even without looking at him I could tell that was an act out of nervousness. "I, uh...sorry."

Do not speak, I commanded myself. He's not worth your words. So again, I fell silent. He happened to fall silent as well, which immediately made this entire thing totally fucking awkward. And I started to wonder what I did or have done or will do that draws this kid's attention all the time, because while he was slowly getting more popular every day, I'm getting more like a hermit everyday.

"So," He started, and even without looking at him, I could tell his smile was back. "Why were you sitting here all by your lonesome?"

My face got even hotter, and my throat closed up. Now that I _did_ want to speak, I couldn't. I shrugged briskly, trying to appear like I either didn't know why I was alone, or that I knew but just didn't give a fuck.

"I know that you sit with this other boy...he's blond, I think, and he's also in our Pre-Calculus class. So...why didn't you sit with him today?"

This guy was making me believe he was a stalker. Who the fuck else would watch a loser like me throughout the day?

I simply sniffed indignantly and brushed the hair out of my face. "He didn't want to sit with me today. His unofficial jackass boyfriend is more important."

"Who's his boyfriend?"

"Alfred Jones. Some dickhead American that plays for this shitty football team."

Uh oh. Why was I even talking to this freak? I hadn't talked this much to anyone other than Arthur or Feliciano, but it wasn't gossip or anything (well, with Arthur, maybe a tiny bit). But then the words formed in my head, word-vomit, and I couldn't control it. I desperately needed to talk to someone and this guy was my only option.

"Alfred's cheating on Arthur!" I blurted out, spinning around to finally look at Antonio. His eyebrows were raised, and that inspired me to continue. "I know that he's been going behind the school every Thursday to hook up with this freaky bitch Natalya, but I didn't want to tell Arthur because he'd never speak to anyone ever again and he'd probably leave town, too. Alfred's not even that great-looking, I mean, he's dumb as fuck, bro, where the hell's that going to get him? You know, he took Advanced Physics last year 'cause he thought he was so fucking smart, and they kicked him out of the program because he got three out of twenty-five on a test. Can you fucking believe it?! What a fucking dumbshit."

Antonio's eyes were sparkling, like he was infinitely pleased by the fact he got me to spill my feelings and guts right in front of him. He leaned in close to me, close enough that I could see that his face really was flawless-not a single blemish or dark circle or wrinkle in sight. Even his lower lashes were curled so perfectly.

"I know your secret, Lovino."

Oh, fuck. My secret? What, that I thought he was fucking cute? That I'm a faggot? What?

Not letting me say anything, he said, "I know this game you're playing. You're so quiet, so you can hear everything everyone's talking about, know who's dating who, who's failing what, and you just keep all these secrets in your head all day. I bet you know a lot of everybody that goes to this school."

...Oh.

"Uh...oh...oh, y-yeah!" I agreed brilliantly. "Definitely. In fact, I know who's going to be asking you to Prom pretty soon."

Antonio blinked his big green eyes at me, looking genuinely confused. "Uh...P-Prom?"

"Yeah. Prom."

"I...don't know...what that is..."

"Oh, my fucking God. It's like a dance. Like a party. They're at the end of a year, for, like, people who are graduating."

"Oh!" His accent was more prominent when he was puzzled. "I see...and you go...with...somebody?"

"Yeah, asshole, you do."

"Like a date?"

"Sure."

"Ohhh."

...

_Then_ it clicked.

"Oh! So you know who is going to ask me to go with them?"

I sighed irritably. "_Yes_."

"Oh, great."

...

...

Then it really clicked.

"Who's going to ask me?"

"I don't know what her name is, but this chick came up to me during class changes, and she was like this cheerleader type, with the jacket and blonde hair and stuff, and she was like, 'just so you know, I'm asking Antonio out', and I was like, 'okay, whatever, I don't give a fuck', and then she left. It was pretty weird. She was kinda bitchy, too."

To _my_ confusion now, Antonio paled (not like it was actually noticeable under that bronze skin). I watched his Adam's apple rise and fall as he swallowed hard, before he wet his lips and asked, "A, er, blonde girl, you say?"

"Yep."

"Blue eyes?"

"Yep."

"High heels?"

"Yep."

"Did you notice this birthmark that looked like a star?"

I tried to remember. I pressed the rewind button in my mind, going back to earlier today when she was leaned all up on my locker. I saw her pouty lips, ugly varsity jacket, chipped nails...and an...oddly shaped birthmark under her right eye.

"Actually," I admitted. "I do."

Antonio's eyes widened to the size of saucers, and he suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "_Mierda_," He muttered, turning away from me, finding the table very interesting right now. "So she is here..."

"What? Who was she?" I demanded, immediately throwing away all rules of society and personal boundaries.

He was shaking his head, and my heart dropped when he quickly collected all his things. "I-I gotta go...but, uh, before I go...do you...want to come over to my place tomorrow? W-We can talk then...u-unless...it's too short notice..."

I narrowed my eyes, scrutinizing his features. "No...it's fine."

"O-Okay, good. H-Here's my address-" He ripped out a piece of paper from a notebook, quickly scribbled something on it, before pressing it into my hand. "Come at lunchtime, yes? 'Kay, bye."

And with that, he darted up the cafeteria steps, not bothering to look back once. I watched him leave, but I also noticed that Gilbert and Francis from two tables away had also turned to watch Antonio head up the stairs before they turned to glance at me, sapphire blue and cherry-coloured eyes boring into mine.

I simply made a face at them before turning back to picking at my lunch. I didn't show it, but my heart was pounding like a hammer in my chest, thudding against my ribs loudly, as if it was trying to break free.

Oh, my God.

I was going to Antonio's house.

My cheeks were scalding now, but I didn't care. I was actually feeling hopeful right now, which hasn't happened for a long time, and I was hopeful because I thought maybe I actually had a chance to get close with this drop-dead gorgeous Spanish boy, actually find a friend in him and maybe very slowly become something more. Okay, I doubted the last thing was going to happen, but still. Hopefully he'd be more reliable than Captain Eyebrows.

I had questions to ask, though, like who that bitch was and why he looked so scared today. It's like he's met this chick before, like they actually have history together, which might be, but I guess I'll have to ask.

The rest of the lunch hour passed quickly, but when the bell rang, signalling the beginning of afternoon classes, I waited around until I was the last person there. When I was finally completely alone, I did a crazy, wild, totally loserish and nerdy dance-hop around the room, a grin on my face.

Things were finally going my way.

* * *

A/N: Hi. :I Thanks for the reviews and follows and favs and shit. They reeeeally make me happy, so keep 'em coming ! C:

Note: I know I've been kind of abandoning my Feed story, but I promise the next chap for that is coming soon.

Stay classy.


	6. Chapter 5

Several boring and sufferingly long classes later, I was blessed with the sound of the last bell ringing cheerfully. I literally could _not_ feel any happier to leave this hellhole and go home so I could cry in solitude.

Too much? Eh, fuck you.

Hell, I was so fucking happy that I accidentally (and maybe thankfully) ignored Arthur waving at me as he exited his history class. Hell, I was so fucking happy I might've been skipping. Hell, I was _so motherfucking ecstatic _I even smiled at Potato Prick as he passed by me (I wonder if he told Feli later that he thinks I may be slightly psychotic). I knew I was being overly-excited for this, okay? I fucking knew that shit. And it's not like Antonio had asked me to be his future bride or whatever; it was merely an invitation to his house.

What was that? 'Lovi, I think you may be stupid'? Here's the part where I very kindly tell you to suck a dick. This is also the part where I ask you: have you ever felt so happy you wanted to jump in joy and praise life? Even over something as superficial as someone asking you for a pencil? Is it bad to be happy over the small things? Is it so fucking bad that, for once, there's someone other than Arthur who wants to talk to me?

I don't care what you think about me. I don't. But I'm fucking happy, man, and that's all that matters to me.

A few minutes later, I was walking back home at a slightly faster than usual pace. I knew that my face must've been as red as the dickens, and I was biting my lip hard so I wouldn't burst into squeals and shouts of joy. My backpack was weightless, my shoes had grown wings, and then I was flying, airborne, floating in thin air like I was a tissue paper...all because I was going to Antonio's house tomorrow. I barely even remembered the look of terror that was on his face when he left the cafeteria. None of that mattered at all to me. None of it.

I burst inside my home, and I just couldn't stop smiling. Oh, this was perfect...! I was going to see Antonio and nothing was going to stop me! Except for-

"Lovino. Your mother and I would like to have a word with you."

-him.

* * *

My mother had this panicky, nervous look on her face as she sat on the couch across from where I was sitting, and she was clutching Dick's arm like a lifeline. Yeah, I bet he was fucking her lifeline; she'd probably commit suicide if he left her. I mean, it's nice and all that she's happy with him, but I'm just getting so fucking annoyed with this clingyness that I honestly do wish they could break off whatever they had.

Dickie Bitch skewered me with his beady little bird eyes, squinting at me through his ugly square glasses. "Lovino...you know your mother and I love you _very_ much..."

Go suck a dick.

"...and that we care endlessly about you..."

Go suck a big, floppy dick.

"...and that we only want the best for you, because you're our son. You're _my_ son."

Bickie Ditch, you can suck my dick right here, right now. I'm his fucking son now? What was that shit about me being a spawn of Satan and whatever? I'm curious now. Now I'm interested in how far this prick is going to go with the gushy shit.

"...However...we are...a family of religion. We speak and think God's words only, listen to Him, obey Him, and worship Him, because we are all God's children. Whatever sins we make, we must ask for His forgiveness."

Where was this going, exactly?

"And so, Lovino...I'm telling you this because..." Here the four-eyed bastard put his hand on my mom's. I could only imagine how slimy and rubbery it must feel, like a wet frog flipper. "Son...your mother and I...we believe you're a homosexual."

I barely even hesitated. "Good. 'Cause I am."

My mom stifled a gasp, and turned her eyes away from me, her other hand covering her mouth. Richard's eyes got colder, icier, more full of hate and anger and disgust.

"...We're very disappointed with you, Lovino. We thought so much better of you."

"Yeah?" I leaned forward, challenging Richard to say something else. "And what are you going to do about it?"

Impossibly, his eyes narrowed even more, and it looked like he wanted nothing more than to leap forward and impale me with a hidden sharp weapon he probably keeps up his dickhole. "We've called Dr. Formuzewich over. We believe that he can help you get through this...phase."

...I...what?

I can't even fucking believe this is actually happening right now.

Did he...just fucking say...that being homo was...a fucking _**PHASE?!**_

I couldn't sit here any longer. I couldn't just sit here and listen to such utter fucking crap spewing out of my step-loser's mouth. I'm not going to sit here while he insults and degrades me. Who does he think he fucking is?!

"Alright, listen here, dumbass," I snarled, jumping to my feet. I ignored the startled expression on Dick's face and continued. I kept my voice down, though, because I didn't want Feli coming in. "I don't give a single rodent's _ass_ about what you _think_ you're gonna do, because I'm fucking gay, and there's nothing you can do that'll make me instantly love girls. It's _not_ going to happen. As a matter of fact, I have a _huge_ fucking crush on this guy at my school, and you know what? I'm going to his house tomorrow. We might fuck, and we might not, and there isn't _jackshit_ you can do about it."

I turned towards the stairs, ignoring the tears that I knew were spilling down my mother's face, and Dick shakily called after me, "Lovino, you're grounded for the rest of the weekend, you're _not_ going to anyone's house tomorrow, and you're going to stay confined to your room until you pray for forgiveness from the Lord, as well as from your mother and I."

"Fuck you!" I hollered, Feli forgotten, and trudged my way up the stairs. "I hope you _all_ fucking drown!"

I slammed the door to my bedroom as hard as humanly possible, the sound shattering throughout the entire house, and I collapsed onto my bed with a long sigh.

Do not cry. Don't you fucking cry. Don't fucking cry over that piece of shit.

Don't.

Don't.

Don't.

Don't.

I wanted to cry.

I remember when I was younger, when I first went to school, my mom knelt down and took my hand. I remember she smiled at me and said, 'If you ever feel sad, if you ever feel mad, if you ever feel like you need some love, I'll always be here. Use up your hand-kisses.' Then she would wink at me. 'They come in one thousands. Refills are free.' And then she would kiss my hand, over and over again, placing what I had believed to be one thousand kisses.

I used them up constantly. A kid would cry in a corner, I'd get distressed, I just turn away and press the back if my hand against my cheek. The teacher yells at me for some godly reason, my hand goes back on my cheek. Mamma tells me Papa's going away for a while, my cheek stays glued to my cheek.

That's what I really needed right now. Although I had no ways of getting affecion anymore.

Not anymore.

"Pesh, this sucks," I whispered to my little stuffed, rainbow fish, which I kept on my pillow every night - a memoire of my papa - and snuggled him to my chest. I call him Pesh because when I was younger, that's how I used to pronouncd fish in Italian.

Curled up on my side, I pressed my cheek against Pesh and thought about my dad. He must've been real nice...I don't remember him much, but I bet he was great.

I miss him.

I need him.

But he probably wouldn't understand.

I went to sleep fully dressed, and didn't come down for dinner.

* * *

I slept unusually well that night. I usually only got three or four hours of sleep because I'm consistently thinking about someone (Antonio) or something. But no, today was...different. I didn't wake up until about 11:45 AM; I'd never fucking slept that long before, holy shit.

...

Wait.

...

Fuck my asshole. Just tear it apart, please.

I was going to fucking see Antonio. To Hell with whatever Dick and my mom thought about it. And obviously since I can't walk out the door, I tried the window.

I shoved my backpack out first, hoping no one heard that, before I slipped my skinny snake-body out.

I don't give a fuck anymore. I'm seventeen fucking years old. I can do whatever I want to fucking do without bitches on my back 24/7.

I wanted to see Antonio.

And I was going to his house.

I might've stolen Feli's car (Dick and Mum didn'f trust me well enough with my own car), because he keeps the doors unlocked and a spare key in the glove compartment (I'm surprised this piece of Shitmobile, robin's egg blue Volkswagen hasn't been stolen yet). And I might've turned off my phone completely so I could drive to the bastard's house in fucking _silence_.

I was so done with this family shit. How do _you_ put up with ir? You a bold motherfucker.

* * *

I'm so lucky Antonio lives out of the fucking city. So fucking glad Feli will see the kilomerer meter a lot different than when he last drove it. Who am I kidding, he probably wouldn't even notice if I smashed his windshield, or something.

The drive was almost fifty minutes from my house. But, _damn_...it was so fucking worth it.

Look at the size of that fucking house.

Look at the size!

LOOK AT IT!

I probably stood in front of the house with my jaw dropped for about three minutes straight.

First of all, it was fucking HUGE. The windows and doors must've been three times my size, the roofing wide and insanely tall, a wrap-around fucking porch that's probably bigger than my _lawn_. Is Antonio actually, like, some kind of Spanish superstar that his family has so much fucking money?

And the colour...a gorgeous beige with white trimming. The colour wasn't anything special...but that's why it was special. Instead of looking annoying and flashy, it looked sleek and modern.

Pfft. Antonio was anything but fucking classy.

My hands were beginning to sweat, and I rubbed them against my jeans. Don't be scared now, Lovino. It's just your huge crush's house and family waiting inside.

But what if he told me a fake address? What if he's just pranking me to see if I would really go? I'd be humiliated for the rest of my fucking life...I'd run away to Texas, or something. After that fucking step-loser shit I really didn't want my day to get that much more worse.

I was considering turning back around and hopping back in my car. I was seriously thinking about it. But my legs seemed to be part of my brain somehow, because they forced me to wobble uneasily up the stairs. My mind shrieked, my heart suddenly raced on, and I briefly wondered if I would have a panic attack.

And then I was in front of the door.

Before I could raise my hand and knock, I heard voices coming from inside.

_"Hermanooooo, dame papitas!"_

_"No, mocoso."_

_"Dame una!"_

_"Le dije que no!"_

Silence.

Then:

_"MAAAAAAMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII! ANTONIO ESTÁ SIENDO MALA CONMIGO!"_

_"N-No, shh, Marco, cállate! Aquí, te voy a dar algunos papitas."_

_"Gracias, hermano~"_

_"ANTONIO! ¿QUÉ HICISTE CON TU HERMANO?"_

_"Nada, mami!"_

So this _was_ Antonio's house.

Ding-dong.

Wait...what?

I didn't even realize I pressed the button! Shit, shit, shit, what was I going to say?! I don't wanna sound like a freak, and I also don't wanna sound like a fucking homo, either! What am I going to do?! I didn't even plan out what I was going to sa -

"Oh! Hi! L...Lovino, was it?"

Oh, my God, there he was. A foot in front of me. As if I wasn't nervous already, his beautiful eyes gazed at me expectantly, a smile supporting them.

Fuck, Lovino, say something!

Totally cool-like, I leaned myself against the doorframe with my elbow supporting my weight, and nodded at Antonio. "Yo."

What. Am. I. Fucking. Doing.

Luckily for me, Airhead Antonio just smiled even wider and held the doot open for me. "Well, come on inside! We have a bunch of things to do~ Oh, and don't mind my family...they can be kinda loud sometimes, eheh~"

Fuuuuck, he was so fucking hot like what I can't even.

"We can stay in my room for a bit! No one will bother us there!"

Okay.

Wait.

...

His room.

I was going to be in his _room. _

This is the part where I crossed my legs reeeeeeeally tightly.

* * *

"So, Lovino. I guess we're parents now, huh?"

Antonio was sitting cross-legged on his (king-sized) bed, holding the sack of flour shit in his lap, and gazing at me interestedly. I was sitting (thankfully) far away from him, on the futon placed at the end of the bed, trying to act casual and not look like a retard.

"...Yeah."

"Excited?"

"Not really."

"Aw. I am. I think it'd be like a learning curve."

"Yeah, curve my ass."

Antonio laughed. It was soft and sweet and ticklish and I just wanted to kiss him all over his cute face.

Ew, fuck. Something was wrong with me.

"So I was thinking we could split the report in half, so you or I could do the title page, abstract, introduction and stuff, and the other could do the conclusion and application part. What do you think, Lovi?"

He had perfect lips. Smooth-looking and light pink and totally kissable. I wonder what would happen if I...

"Lovi?"

They were moving. Oh, crap, he just asked me something.

"Uh, y-yeah, yeah," I answered quickly. "Sounds good..."

The boy in front of me frowned, and I realized this is the first time I've seen him look nervous. "Lovi...is this...too weird for you?"

It was my turn to frown. "Is what too weird?"

"Coming over to my house...even though we just met a couple of days ago." Antonio shifted uncomfortably, and he suddenly wouldn't look at me. "Is that...weird?"

How do you answer to something like that without sounding mean? It was triple as hard for me, because I know I'm a fucking jerk and all to everyone, but this was Antonio, so I kinda really wanted to make a good impression on him.

"It's weird," I agreed. "But...it's kinda...nice?"

Smooth.

To my sheer luck, Antonio's face brightened up. "It is? Ah, I thought it was kinda weird, but I'm glad you think it's nice, Lovi!"

"...Yeah."

"And I...just...really want to be your friend, y'know?"

What?

I think every wheel in my head stopped turning all at once.

"...What?" I whispered.

Antonio's smile dropped a bit, and he still wouldn't look at me. "When I saw that you were taking dance lessons...I-I dunno, I just felt like I wanted to...get...to...know you...better..."

"Really?" I asked a bit suspiciously.

"_Sì. _I...I'm lonely...you know?" His face looked like it was in pain. "I have friends, but...I came to this country to find someone I can really relate to, and...I think...you..." His words trailed off, and he shook his head sadly. "Nevermind. I'm just being dumb..."

"Lonely, huh?" I crossed my arms to hold in what I was feeling. "I hardly believe that."

"I-It's true..."

I wet my lips, preparing my brain for what I was going to say next. "...You don't want to be my friend."

"I do," He challenged, finally looking up to meet my eyes. I saw determination but also desperateness in those big eyes of his. "Trust me, I do."

I wanted to be more than a friend to him. But have you ever had a crush on someone that wanted to be your friend? Maybe friends is just what you hould stay as. To keep your friendship stable and hearts not broken. Maybe this is for the better.

I sighed, and my cheeks burned my face for the trillionth time. "I...guess...we could...be friends...bastard."

Antonio looked at me, and it was hard to tell what emotion was in his eyes now. And then he was hugging me, so nice and close and tight, and from how quickly he moved made me breathless.

"Thank you, Lovi," He mumbled. "Thank you for being my friend..."

Oh, man. It seems that I have forgotten the ability to hug. I patted his arms awkwardly, and I tried to ignore _how fucking good his clothes smelled and how soft his body was and how I wish I wasn't being awkward and how I wish we could just stay like this a little while longer. _

"...Mmhm," I managed just as awkwardly. "You're welcome very much." Oh, fuck me. Of all times to be awkward.

Antonio barely noticed. Instead, he smiled and laughed and pulled away before he suddenly started into a conversation. And then I didn't feel so awkward being around him.

* * *

I drove home much later in Feli's ugly car. It must've been 10 PM or some shit, because it was totally dark and foggy. Did I really spend that much time talking to my hugeass crush (really...his ass was huge)?

Anyways, I had just finished putting the ugly car in the garage and was walking up the stairs to my house when my phone rang. I fished it out, one hand on the door handle, and answered it without looking at the caller ID.

"Yeah?"

_"Hi, Lovi!"_

"Stop fucking calling me that. Yeah, what?"

_"Oh, yeah! Ah, you know how you told me...who was going to ask me out?"_

Oh, crap. I totally forgot to ask who that girl was. "Yeah. Who was that girl, anyways?"

To my surprise, Antonio laughed._ "A girl? No, no, no, Lovi, it wasn't a girl!"_

It wasn't?

"Uh, Antonio, I saw boobs and high heels. I think I know when I see a girl."

_"Hahaha, no, Lovi! You must've mistaken Francis for a girl! You know who he is, right? Well, he asked me out just a couple of minutes ago!"_

* * *

A/N: I'm not sure if its if i cant write dialogue or filler stuff, or if i just cant write at all. Ahahh, i think i just like writing the fluffy, Lovi X Toni stuff more than actual story-lines.

Send in s'more reviews! They make me soooo happy!

Stay classy.


End file.
